Life on the Outside
by Heraclod
Summary: Never, ever give a warden your name.


Neither show belongs to me. Superjail belongs to Augenblick and Regular show to Quintel. And as always, reading and reviewing is always appreciated.

* * *

><p>It finally happened, the best possible thing they could imagine. The day had already begun and it already happened.<p>

The blue jay lugged his mattress out of the boarding house, among a few other belonging. The raccoon stood by him, doing little to help.

A gumball machine stuck his head out the window, "And I don't ever wanna see you around here again. If I do, I'll call the cops. Let them handle you!"

Mordecai covered his face in his wings, ashamed. Rigby, however, still stood, waiting for Mordecai's next move.

As Benson threw more of their belongings out the window, Skips hopped over to where they stood. He handed a wood necklace to Rigby.

"I want you to have this," he said stoic as ever. Man, what a sensitive guy.

Rigby took it, giving a confused look, "Okay…? Does it have some kind of mystical janx in it?"

He shakes his head, keeping his poker face, "No, just some cereal box prize I wanted to get rid of. Think since we won't see you anytime soon, I better send it with you."

Mordecai raises his eyebrow, "…uh, thanks?"

"Don't thank me. You're not grateful, you don't need to be. Now I gotta go and take over your load of work."

He ends that sentence with a skip back to his shed.

The two just moaned and began their trek out of the park, carrying their stuff behind them.

Mordecai glared at Rigby, "I can't believe you got us fired, Rigby."

Rigby threw his hand out, "How was I supposed to know Benson would flip when I put all Pop's badminton clothes down the garbage disposal."

"Maybe cause, I dunno, you flooded the first floor? And now thanks to you, we're both homeless and with no job."

"Dude, stop, whining about it. I'm sure Benson will hire us back. He can't do anything without us."

Mordecai dropped his mattress, ready to flip a table, "No, you don't get it! We have no job, we have no home! We don't have anywhere! And it's your fault!"

"Come on, don't blame me, bro. Let's just ask Benson for our jobs back."

"He said he'd call the police on us if we showed our faces again. You heard him."

Rigby tugged at Mordecai's tall legs, "Come oooon, let me talk to Benson."

"We cant'" Mordi picked the mattress from where it had fallen and continued walking, "Alright, we can't go to any of our parent's place and we know nobody else, so the only place we can say it is—"

Rigby threw out his paw in disdain, "No! Don't say it!"

Mordi maintained his silent glare before saying, "…Don."

"Auuuugh, dude, not my brother! He sucks!"

"We don't have any other choice."

"NO! If we go there, you'll start hanging with Don!"

Mordecai ignored this and continued lugging his junk, "We're going to Don's."

"Wait," he scurried in front of Mordecai, "Wait, wait, dude! Let me fix this!"

He stopped, more out of obligation than anything else, "You always say that. And you know what? It gets worse. No."

"Mordecaaaaaaaaaaaai," he whined, "I can fix this, Please let me fix this. I don't wanna stay with Don, bro."

Mordecai stopped in mock-thinking, "You know what? No."

"How hard can finding a job be? You just look through the newspaper and call some dude. Like this."

Rummaging through his garbage can, he pulls a grimy newspaper from the rubbish. He waved it at Mordecai, "See?"

The bird recoiled, "Ew…"

"See? I totally got this." Flipping through the newspaper, he points to a big ad, "Look, wanted: two interns, part time work, easy pay, no experience required. That's totally us, dude!"

"It's an internship, dude, they barely pay anything. Seriously, it's worse than a sweatshop. "

Rigby groaned, "Come on dude, give me a chance! I can totally fix this!"

"No Rigby! You screwed up, okay? Don't make this any worse."

Too late, Rigby ignored Mordecai's words. Already he climbed up the phonebooth by the front of the park, chatting on the phone.

"Yeah, huh, that's Mordecai and Rigby in Chica—"

Dropping his stuff, Mordecai rushed up and hung up the phone. The raccoon gave an exasperated groan, "Dude you suck!"

"I told you, Rigby, it's a scam. You remember what happened with Doug? Well, this is the same thing, only worse."

"You mean people will start looking and acting like me?"

Mordecai threw his head up in frustration, "Forget you dude, I'm gonna go get some coffee."

"I don't want coffee, I want a hot dog."

"Do what you want, I'm getting coffee."

Rigby tugged at Mordecai's leg, "But that was the last of my money. I'm broke, dude."

"That's your problem. Later," Mordecai walks to the coffee shop.

"You don't even want coffee; you just wanna talk to Margret," he said the name with disgust.

The blue jay still kept walking, "Later dude."

Rigby screeched, "Mordecaaaaaiiiii!"

The bird shook his head. Okay, that's it. Rigby had to do something. He looked back to a hot dog stand, then back to Mordecai, and back and forth and back and forth. After two seconds of hard, well-planned thinking, Rigby chose the most rational course of action—to steal.

Running up to the bird on all fours, he quickly snatched the blue jay's wallet from him. And before Mordecai could react, he scurried off.

However, Mordecai soon followed suit, calling out, "Dude, give me my wallet!"

Too late, Rigby had made it to the hot dog stand. Mordecai caught up, absolutely livid, "Dude that was my money!

Rigby just bobbed his head at Mordecai, "Hmm, hmm."

He laid out the stolen money on the stand, "Two hot dogs, please."

Instead of giving two hotdogs, the vendor burst into what looked like a giant white lego block with a computerized face. Two retractable arm-claws flew out of the robot, grabbing both blue jay and raccoon by the collar. How's that for hot dogs?

Before either of them could react, the machine blasted off into the sky.

As they levitated several hundred feet above the ground, Mordecai began officially freaking out. He looked to Rigby, panicked, "Dude! What did you do?"

"I don't know!" said Rigby, squirming in his cuffs with bulging eyes.

If this moment could get anymore surreal, it'd have a song accompanied by a rock guitar, Oh shoot, let's say there was

_Oh, life on the outside ain't what it used to be  
>You know, the world's gone crazy and it ain't safe on the streets <em>

"Wait, do you hear music?"

Mordecai shot a glare at Rigby, "No, dude. Why would that matter?"

"I swear I hear music."

_Well, it's a drag, I know  
>There's only one place to go<em>

"Whatever, you're just trying to weasel your way out of blame. It's not working."

"Shut uuuuuuuup…"

Wherever this robot was taking them, it was far off any map. It carried them over mecha-dinosaurs locked in combat, Spartans in ballet, groups of purple aliens with bulging heads, Cyclops whose chests explode, and on and on.

Sure, both of them have seen a lot of weird s, but this is weird…far too weird for any of their tastes. For the most part of the trip, both had their jaws hanging out in shock…at least until boredom set in.

_I'm coming home, oh yeah, I'm coming home!_

"Ugh," Rigby groaned, "Does this ride ever end?"

"Seriously, you want this to end? It could be taking us to limbo for all we know!"

"Dude, I want off…my arms are getting tired."

"Rigby. The only thing between falling to death and us is this robot. Don't say anything to upset it."

"This ride sucks! I want off!"

"Dude you're gonna get us killed!"

"No I'm not! If you listened to me at the park, we wouldn't be here!" he shoves Mordecai. His arms are much too weak to do much, however.

"If you hadn't flooded the kitchen, we wouldn't be here at all!" he shoves back, eliciting a whine from Rigby.

"Stop talking! It's not my fault!" he begins throwing his own little fit, shaking the robot arm.

"Rigby-!" Moredcai, called out, his concern mounting.

"Shut up! I can totally fix this!"

"Rigby!"

"Let me off this riiiiiide!" he screeched.

As he let out this yell, the machine flew into a purple cloud, oddly in the shape of a man's head. The cloud sufficiently shut them up…for about two minutes.

Mordecai whispered back, "Dude shut up."

The blue jay and the raccoon watched their odd surroundings. It looked like…what? A candy factory? A prison? Hell? Heaven? Neither of them knew. Whoever designed this palce had three things: a lot of time, a lot of money, and very little sanity, most likely a Fox news correspondent.

"Hey, at least the music's over."

"There was no music, dude. Don't be such a hole."

"You're the hole!" he kicks hopelessly at the air.

As he does, the robot relinquishes its grip, dropping the both of them down one long pipe, sliding and twisting every which-way and other way. Needless to say, screaming was a requirement this time.

"AAAAAAH—why did you do that?"

"It wasn't me, it was the robot!"

"It was totally you! We're dead!"

"Stop taaaaaaalking!" he screeched once more.

However, both of their screams were cut short as they crashed through a glass ceiling, raining shattered glass down on the office floor. Strangely, Mordecai and Rigby didn't get harmed…much. Rigby suffered a few cuts, whining out pitifully

Mordecai stood up, groaning from the fall. Any chance to make any verbal observations was cut short by the quick arrival of a certain robot. He touched down, giving a military salute. And who was he saluting? Why, another stranger flopping across the floor.

Despite his size, it was apparent from his movements that the guy was an oversized man-child. He saddled up to his desk, smiling to the sky for little good reason.

Soon the smile dissolves as he glowers at the machine, "Jailbot, what did I tell you about dropping prisoners in my office? Take them out right now!"

Jailbot's face soon frowns, shaking up and down as if in disagreement,

"Tch, you're in charge of catching them; I'm too busy improving the art of incarceration."

Prisoners? Incarceration? Mordecai and Rigby exchanged nonplussed looks.

But soon enough the purple-suited man's mood swings from irritated to glad when he spots the new arrivals. He flops over to Rigby, grabbing him by his little raccoon tail.

Rigby spazzed out in flailing panic as the man-child held him over his head. He spoke in an awfully chipper voice, "Omigosh, a raccoon. This is so cute!"

He pushes an intercom button, "Jared, skin this alive and make it into a hat."

Rigby's eyes flew wide open, "WHAT? Dude, no!"

The purple-suited man child draped the raccoon over his head.

"How you'll look so cute on top of my head!" he enthused, "But ugh, we'll need to take those eyes! And that nose! It doesn't even make sense!"

"Shut up! My nose is fine!" Rigby protested.

Luckily, one diminutive sweaty man burst in through the door, waving his arms frantically, "Sir! Sir! That isn't a hat!"

The man-child simply scoffed at his outburst as he tossed Rigby around like a plush toy, "Don't make me laugh, Jared. Of course it's a hat! Why else would they send it alive? Now pass me the knife."

"DUDE, DON'T LISTEN TO HIM!"

Jared sweated profusely, sharing the raccoon's panic, "Sir, listen to me! You can't kill him! That's one of the interns!"

The man gave an exasperated sigh and tossed Rigby carelessly to the ground, "Way to ruin the party, Jared. If we're going to do this outreach blah blah blah, can't we have a little fun with the interns?"

"But sir," Jared shook from sweat, "I-if you say so, sir. But won't we need them alive?"

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I guess you're right."

He leapt from his desk in another unpredictable mood swing. He threw out his arms, grinning at the confused blue jay and raccoon.

Rigby lay on the floor, shaking from fear, "Listen dude, if it's about the hot dogs, I'm sorry!"

The man ignored him, "Congratulations, Mordecry and RJ, I'm the Warden, your new boss and slavemaster. You've joined our intern outreach program for Superjail, the greatest prison in the world. As part of this outreach whatever, you'll receive the best work experience in the greatest prison in the world! MY prison! Don't you feel so proud?"

But pride was the furthest thing from their minds. Mordecai and Rigby could only look on in a mix of shock and horror. Was this guy serious?

Rigby, having no idea what to make of the situation, spoke out, "…does that mean we get our own beds?"

Surprisingly the Warden listened, "Beds? Jared, when did we promise any beds?"

The sweaty sycophant fumbled through a pile of papers before pulling out one sheet of paper, "Sir, you wrote it in the contract here in clause 12, section C!"

The Warden read it over before grimacing, "What? I can't believe I wrote that! Jared, remind me to get working on that time machine!"

The purple-suited prison warden walked over to the animal duo, he held out his hand, "But in the meantime, welcome to Superjail!"

Hesitantly, Mordecai held out one wing, "Okay…? Um, you sure this is legal?"

"Malachai, I run a prison! I should know what's legal and what's not!"

Mordecai just stares, trying to ignore the 'Malachai' remark, "Right…um, listen, me and Rigby are just gonna go, okay?"

The Warden laughed at the bird's impudence, "Leave Superjail? Silly bird, no one leaves Superjail. We haven't had a break-out since…ever!"

"What? Dude, we're interns, not criminals!"

"Sorry, but under your contract…" he turns to Jared, "Jared, show the contract."

Jared brings the contract in view of the two animals, "Under your contract, you're to stay here forever!"

Mordecai's eyes flew wide open, "What contract? We just answered your ad in the paper!"

The Warden snuck behind Rigby, "The contract you made legally binding when your friend Rodney gave your names, silly!"

Mordecai shot a horrified glance at the raccoon, "You did what?"

Rigby edged away, "I-I didn't know! He said he wanted our names, I didn't know there was a contract! Dude, you gotta believe me!"

Suffice to say, the blue jay sat speechless.

Fortunately enough, the Warden had enough words for everyone, even more so, "Great! Jailbot will show you to your rooms, located right in the prison suite! Isn't that fun?"

Rigby shook his head. No, not fun at all.

But the Warden ignored them, calling out for his robot servant, "Jailbot!"

No more needed to be said, Jailbot grabbed Mordecai and Rigby by the scruff of their necks and blasted through the glass roof again.

Once more Rigby received a few shards of glass in his fur.

"Ow…" he moaned.

However, both didn't have room for conversation as they took in more of Superjail. Miles wide and miles deep cells stood side-by-side, packed with humanity's worst and ugliest scum. Some in there looked as if they could stab a man by looking them in the eye and others as if they could kill with a back-handed compliment.

Brutally and efficiently, the white machine dumped them unceremoniously in one cell. Standing a little ways away from the other inmates, it provided the comfort of an egg carton next to a frying pan.

Indeed the room stood as the pinnacle of comfort with its luxurious flatboard beds and its fine plumbing located in the vicinity of the wondrous squalor beds, not to mention the stunning gray color scheme. Both realized that such fine comforts were not worthy of lowly interns like them, as exampled by the fine crooked stitching on the stiff throw pillows.

Clearly this was the bedroom of gods.

Mordecai laid back onto one of the beds, groan as the luxury slammed into his back. He shot a death glare towards, "Way to sell our souls to prison Rigby."

Rigby rolled his eyes, "Come on, dude, it can't be that bad."

Somewhere off in the distance Rigby was answered with a blood-curdling screech of safety.

After a moment of terrified silence, Mordecai shot another glare, "Safe, riiiiight."

"You heard the guy, no one's ever escaped. What's there to worry about?"

"Hear that? You're tempting fate, Rigby. You ask what could go wrong and you might as well be dead. Nice knowing you, dude."

"Stop taaaaalking!"

"Hmm hmm. This is your fault. We could've just been fired, but now we're stuck with a sucky job."

Rigby hopped up to the oh-so luxurious bed, "It isn't that bad, dude. I mean, that Warden guy looks pretty cool."

"He was going to make you into a hat, dude."

"Maybe he was kidding! Well, look at him, he's like a cool Willy Wonka. Plus, Superjail? That's like way more cool than regular jail."

"You mean way more deadly. Seriously, this place is probably quadruple max. And you know what that means? They're cannibals and psychos. And you know what? We're right next to them, dude."

Rigby stood up on the bed, which isn't problematic given his small stature, "You know what? I think you're mad that I thought of it! You know this place is awesome and you just won't admit it! Hmm-hmm!"

Mordecai took this moment to roll over and get some sleep, "Whatever, dude."

Rigby screeched back, "I'LL SHOW YOU!"

But Mordecai gave no reply save the beginnings of sleepytime. Rigby dropped to a sitting position on the bed, "Yeah, he knows I'll show him. Hmm hmm."

Of course, any peaceful rest was interrupted by the sound of metal grating and a harsh, masculince voice, "Alright, you pussies, time to go to work."

Before either of them could protest, both were grabbed by the scruff of the neck. Mordecai shot instantly into wakefulness, "What? Dude—"

Mordecai's sentence was cut short by what he saw grabbing him. That definitely was no dude…he thinks. The only giveaway that she could be a man was the voice and the faint mustache. But really, don't some women have a little stache? Either way, this woman/man/vegetable looked like he/she/it could definitely snap their necks.

Throwing them into a pitch black room with buckets and mops, she/he/it called out, "Doctor's had another spill. Sack up and clean it!"

With a slam of the door, Mordecai and Rigby were alone.

"Uh…"Rigby trailed.

Though he couldn't see Mordecai's face, it was obvious he was irritated, "Awesome. Right."

"It isn't that bad. Why don't you admit that my idea is totally awesome already?"

"Dude, we're in the dark with mops surrounded by convicts it's not awesome."

Rigby scoffed, "Just you wait, in ten minutes, this'll be you."

He switched his voice to a spot-on imitation of his blue jay friend, "Dude, Rigby, I was such a tool for not saying you were right on how awesome everything is. Dude, you're so right, we should totally make—"

Mordecai interrupted, "Okay, first? That sounds nothing like me. I don't say dude every second. And second, I'll never admit you were right. And third? You better not say what I think you're going to say."

Folding his arms quickly before Rigby shot an unseen glare, "—make a cake, what did you think I said. OH!" his voice turned smug "You thought I was gonna say make out! Admit it!"

"NO! I'd never make out with you. I should punch you for even putting that image in my head."

"Hey, you were the one who said it, you hole!"

"Only because that's what I thought you said. Face it, I'd never make out with you."

Rigby paused before saying, "Not even a little bit?"

"What? Dude, no!"

"No, I mean if I had lady pecs."

"Still weird, dude. No, not even if you had lady pecs."

Another moment of quiet passed as both thought maybe if they waited long enough they could skip out cleaning up entirely.

Rigby spoke up, grinning, "…you're totally thinking about it."

"Just drop it Rigby, okay?"

"Dude, you're totally thinking about me with lady pecs!" the raccoon laughed.

"I'm not!"

"I bet I give the most awesome make-out sessions."

"You don't even know how to make out, dude."

"Hey, you're the one thinking about making out with lady pec me."

"I said drop it, dude!"

Their conversation was interrupted by heavy knocking, "Hey ass-munchers, I don't hear any sweeping. Cut the seven minutes in heaven and get to work, ladies!"

Realizing that the drill-sergeant on the other side of the door probably wasn't going to leave them alone both scrambled to their legs.

"He's the lady," Rigby snarked back.

"She IS a lady." Mordecai retorted.

Both stumbled through the dark before the blue jay called out, "Yeah, okay. Um…where's the light?"

The gruff voice replied, "By the door, but you'd already know that if you weren't swapping gum diseases. Now get to work!"

"Got it, dude…" Mordecai grumbled as he groped through the dark, looking for the door."

"Aw, come on," Rigby whined, "Don't tell me we have to work!"

"Don't have much a choice. Ms. Boot Camp's gonna cream us if we don't"

"Nyah, nyah, nyah," Rigby mouthed, "Since when do you listen to anyone in charge?"

"Since they're the only thing between pay and getting our ba—"he tensed up as he felt something slick and wet on his leg, "Uh…dude?"

"Wasn't me, I swear!" he called from the opposite side of the room

"I didn't even say anything yet. Is it me or is this room really wet?"

"Augh, gross, dude. This better not be a bathroom. I didn't come all this way to Ultrajail just to go on bathroom duty."

"Shut up, Rigby, you're starting to gross me out."

"Says the guy who imagines making out with lady-pec me…" Rigby's voice trailed off.

"I said drop it, dude!" Mordecai's hand brush against a hard object, "Oh, think I found it, dude."

"Hmm hmm. You just got lucky, I was gonna find it!" Rigby cried out.

Mordecai rolled his eyes, "Whatever, dude. It wasn't a contest."

"If it was, I'd so win."

"Whatever."

Modecai flipped on the light. It could go to say they were greeted with an all-together pleasant sight. The nearly-blinding phosphorescent lights turned on to reveal…a sterilized lab. Not too out of the ordinary, save the crimson décor. Whoever last occupied this room chose to decorate most of the floor with hearty red blood, sticky entrails, and various bits of former body parts littering the floor.

The blue jay sank to his knees, obviously overcome by the decorator's thoughtfulness, "Oh my god. ..oh my god…oh my god…"

Rigby jumped back several paces, drowning in the same appreciation as his friend, "I—is that-?"

His friend didn't give him any explanation, as he spewed vomit upon the floor as a token of his gratitude. He collapsed to the floor, "This can't be happening…"

Rigby paced the floor on all fours, freaking out, "I didn't know this'd happen, honest!"

"You didn't know? Dude, the Warden guy is a psycho who sent a robot after us! What did you think would happen?"

"I thought it would be awesome!"

"Well guess what, Rigby? You're wrong."

"No, this is just some prank," Rigby said to himself, "We just go out that door and everyone will yell 'surprise' and we can all have cake!"

"WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT CAKE?"

"I DON'T KNOW, I JUST WANNA GET OUT OF HERE!" he quickly latched on to Mordecai.

The bird shoved at him before standing up, "Just one problem. We got the red-head version of Starla out there."

"Why not use the other door?" Rigby pointed to the door on the opposite side.

Mordecai chuckled, "Oh yeah, why didn't I see that?"

"Cause you're not me."

Mordecai countered with a punch before continuing out the door. Wincing and nursing his arm, Rigby followed. Keeping his eyes off all the human remains coating the floor proved harder than he thought. All he could do was mutter oh god oh god in his head over and over while Rigby followed close behind. Soon they came to the door. With little hesitation, Mordecai turned the handle.

The door swung open to a charming picture of the orange-vested chaps under the care and keep of Superjail. Yes, Mordecai and Rigby must've been pleased to fall in with this maximum security prison crowd.

Rigby was so pleased he tugged at Mordecai's leg, whispering, "Dude, I don't think they like us."

Rigby referred to the fact that every head in that accumulated prison area had swiveled their heads three hundred and sixty degrees to greet their new guests with only the most jovial death glares.

Bravely, so as to not be rude, Mordecai stepped forward as to appear non-chalant, "Just shut up, Rigby."

"But dude, they're going to kill us!"

"Just shut up and keep walking."

A moment later, Rigby whispered back, "Wait."

Sigh, "What?"

"Maybe I should grab on to your leg."

"What? why?"

"So they'll know I'm your property!"

"What? No!"

"Come on, bro. It's a prison thing, I saw it on TV. Come on, Mordecai, I don't wanna shanked."

Mordecai groaned before whispering back, "Fine, let's get this over with. And just so you know, you owe me four solids."

"What? Dude, lame…."

"You wanna get shanked?"

Rigby whined, "Ffffffffine." before latching on to Mordecai's leg.

As they walked as nonchalantly as any talking blue jay and raccoon can, the prisoner's eyes remained fixed on them. One couple averted their head, whispering and giggling.

"I think they're talking about us," Rigby carefully noted, ever the master of perception.

"Shut up," Mordecai said, obviously amazed by his friend's power of deduction.

The blue jay would have no reason to see why these fine me were locked away in this Superjail. They all seemed so friendly, offering their hospitality with predatory glares, showing their knives and whispering, "I'll kill you."

And they seemed the most level-headed bunch, too! Mordecai could definitely tell this as they passed the one holding cell where a truly-gifted individual wrote 'RABBITS IN THE WALLS' all over his cell, using his own blood as the medium. Mordecai held back some vomit, obviously overcome by the beauty of this level-headed genius' masterwork.

Not to mention that these fine prisoners engaged in such friendly activity, like lifting weights just to gain muscles to impress each other by squeezing their heads like a cherry with one flex. Or in the lunchroom, where every group of friends greeted each other with friendly stabbings, flailing in pain and overcome with these tokens of friendship.

The food was only the most excellent too, as Mordecai and Rigby discovered. Yes, Superjail only served the finest ambiguous meat slurry that the FDA couldn't even identify under an electron microscope.

Taking their meat/chemical/space ether stew to an unoccupied table, Mordecai and Rigby sat, hoping not to attract any wonderful tokens of friendship.

But fortunately, they didn't try hard enough as one clean-cut individual sat in front of the duo. His glasses betrayed no expression save his smile. On his shoulder sat a bird. The man sat without saying a word, just smiling at the duo. Jeez, was his smile extremely unnerving.

Cautiously Mordecai waved at the man, "Uh…hi?"

The man maintained his smile routine.

"Okay…?" Mordecai swallowed.

It was Rigby's turn to make awkward small talk, "So…you been here long?"

Smile.

Smile.

Smile.

Mordecai exchanged worried glances with his raccoon friend. Rigby whispered, "Dude, why are we talking to him? Let's just get the h out of here."

"For once, good idea, Rigby."

Rigby glared, "I have good ideas."

"Whatever, let's go." He turned back to the glasses-wearing dude, who maintained his silence, "Okay, but me and…Rigbone have to go lift some weights. Later, dude."

And they sped off, only to be intercepted by who other than the jolly lunatic Willy Wonka. Crashing into Jailbot, on whom perched the Warden, both collapsed to the floor, moaning.

Jailbot circled them as an upset Warden began his tirade, "Ugh, I can't believe this! I give you all the best services Superjail can offer—free food, the honeymoon prison suite, a free tour, easy pay—and at the first chance you ditch your job to chat with the prisoners? Ugh, you give one guy an internship and they walk all over you!"

"We didn't ask for this, dude! We wanted some money, not to clean up some human blood!" Mordecai yelled back, rising from the ground.

"Too bad, your little boy-toy Stacy shouldn't signed the contract."

"My name's Rigby! And I'm not his boy-toy! And I only gave my name!"

Warden rolled his eyes. Nope, he didn't care one bit. And to show his concern for the two interns, he barked at his robot companion, "Jailbot, take them to holding level number 55916. If they can't be good slaves, they can be inmates."

Shaking enthusiastically, Jailbot roughly grabbed both by the scruff of their neck before taking them and slamming them into their orange prison uniform. Soon enough as an example of the Warden's care, Jailbot threw the blue jay and raccoon down a pit.

It took some minutes before both crashed at the bottom to their new cell. And from the looks of it, it appeared things were improving. Their neighbors appeared the most friendly lot. Zoological oddities of all kinds were situated left and right to them. Next them sat a giant tattooed squid, each tentacle tattooed with a tribal pattern or a rose.

Ever the welcoming guy, the squid growled out in a raspy voice, "Alright, which one of you is gonna be my bitch tonight?"

Though the bars unfortunately made a barrier between them and the friendly squid, Rigby leapt onto Mordecai's lap, "Dude, I wanna get out of here!"

Mordecai, for once, didn't push him off.

"Me too, but look," he explained, "We're inside a prison in the middle of nowhere where everything wants to kill us or own us. This place is locked up tighter than Alcatraz. Face it Rigby, we're stuck."

Unable to take in the good news, the raccoon's eyes started to water, "No…"

He hugged the blue jay tighter. And this time, just this once, Mordecai hugged back.

Somwhere else in Superjail, two characters of lesser importance watched the new inmates through a big screen. From their matching blond hair, blue uniforms, and unibrows, one could say they were twins. Or at least good cosplayers.

"It looks like the blue jay and his one-cheeked friend are on the other end of the justice system," muttered one twin.

"Perhaps we should heap more onto the bird's pecker," joked the other in their same monotone voice.

"How dirty."

They laughed, their voices unwavering. Teleporting, they materialized to 55916 and proceeded to repair the cell's security system. They must've done such a great job as a spark caused all the cells to open, releasing all the monstrous prisoners from their cells.

Laughing, the Twins vanished.

"Did you just see some twins?" asked Riby.

Mordecai grabbed the raccoon as he began running out the cell, "Not important, Rigby!"

"But dude—" his sentence was cut short by a tattooed tentacle slithering round the duo. The friendly squid returned, brandishing a knife.

"Looks like it's gonna be a ménage-a-three. I can deal with this."

Rigby struggled out of the squids grasp, screeching, "Mordecaaaaaaaaai!"

Aforementioned Mordecai, who was in a similar predicament, looked to the raccoon with a panicked expression "Uh, Rigby? Kinda busy!"

To be fair, getting attacked by a salacious tentacle can take up much of one's time as Rigby found out. Rigby whined, "Please don't kill us, I already went through enough!"

The squid considered for a brief millesecond, "Mmmmm nope!"

"Come on, I'll give you a birthday present!"

"Still nope. You're gonna be my bitch entre, whether you like it or not." He lifted Rigby over his giant beak mouth.

"Dude, you suck!" the raccoon flailed, causing on of his tiny feet to kick the gaping squid beak. The tentacle inmate shrank back, groaning in pain. As he did, the tentacle let Rigby and the blue jay out of its grasp.

Moredcai rose to his feet, shooting Rigby a deadpan look, "Still think this place is awesome?"

"Stop taaaaalking!"

Through the wall burst one irritated Jailbot, who proceeded to fire a handy Gatling gun from his organized robotic stockpile, sending the squid into a pile of squid meat.

Mordecai, being so rude as to disrespect his fallen friend, bent over and issued a verdict of puke across the floor.

Rigby recoiled, "Dude, sick!"

Ignoring Mordecai's rudeness, Jailbot continued his rampage, beating an enraged sabertooth gorilla into pulp, setting a spider dolphin on fire, and tickling the jellyfish bear to death.

Realizing Jailbot might let them join the fun; he took Rigby by the hand and started running, with no idea of their destination.

As they ran Rigby tugged Mordecai to a halt, a feat in of itself. He pointed to the randomly-placed ice cream stand. Before Mordecai could protest, Rigby ran up to the vendor, "Two chocolate fudge ripple heart attacks, please."

The vendor bent over to the counter and gave them not ice cream but a sample of Jailbot arms. Once again, they ended up in the grasp of the neutral Jailbot. Figuring he should thank them for testing the jail's security so well, he proceeded to beat the captives as he flew up to the Warden's office.

Throwing both to through another window, both held themselves in a fetal position. Both moaned to show their thanks for the helpful beating they received.

The Warden was aghast, "Damn it, Jailbot, the interns are bleeding on my carpet!"

Mordecai was the first to prop himself up with his elbows, "Seriously? You're twisted! Who the h does this to interns?"

The Warden pranced, tapping Mordecai with his cane, "Silly, silly, Modotry. You're a prisoner, not an intern! And all prisoners of Superjail are stripped of their rights as soon as they enter prison! Wait, why do I need to explain this? I'm the Warden! In fact, I should just send you to the electric chair! Jared, do we have an electric chair?"

The assistant fumbled nervously with his papers, "Yes, but sir! It's only at half capacity! Their deaths will take at least two hours!"

The purple-suited man leapt to his desk, "Works for me! When do we start?"

Rigby's mouth dropped agape, "What? Dude, you can't do that!"

The Warden scoffed. What was that raccoon-rat doing thinking he could order the Warden around? He taps the insolent raccoon's nose with his cane, "Of course I can! I'm the warden! It's my name! I can do whatever I want! Jailbot, let's go!"

Thinking as fast as he could, Mordecai yelled out, "Uh…don't we get a phone call?"

Mock thinking, the Warden replied curtly, "Mmm, no."

Rigby, using his child-like logic called-out, "Fine then we don't get a phone call! This place sucks anyway! You suck!"

Oh no he did not—the Warden sneered at the raccoon, "Meh meh meh meh meh! You don't know anything! I used my incredible genius to design only the most awesome prison ever! You can't say I suck! FINE, you get your phone call! Jared, go get the phone."

"But sir—" Jared protested.

"I said go get it!"

Panting, Jared hobbled with the phone, bringing it to Mordecai.

Dialing, Mordecai took a deep breath. He hoped this works.

"Hello?" Benson answered.

"Benson, dude!" Rigby yelled into the phone, "You gotta bail us out of here! They're gonna send us to the electric chair!"

"What—RIGBY? I thought I told you never to call me back! Get off the line before I call the police!"

"Kinda already in jail, dude." Mordecai sighed.

"You're in-? What did you do to get in prison?"

"Nothing!" Rigby screeched, "I just said my name!"

"And you want me to bail you out," Benson said disbelievingly, "Well, TOO BAD!"

"Benson, dude," Mordecai pleaded, "He's gonna put us on the electric chair!"

"We'll do anything!" Rigby added.

"Yeah, we'll work for free for three whole months. Just bail us out, dude!"

A pause on the line for a moment before Benson spoke again, "Well, the park has been falling apart without you guys and you're such an important part—PFFFTHAHAHAHA—Man, I can't keep a straight face! But fine, I'll pay your bail, but for six months both of you are my slaves!"

"Uh…okay?" Mordecai exchanged worried glances with Rigby.

Benson did not see their worried glances. If he did, he would most certainly care. He said in an oh-so-caring voice, "Put me on the phone with this Warden."

They obliged their generous boss, handing the phone to the purple-suited man. The Warden listened to phones voice, nodding before throwing down the phone. The gumball's offer filled him with glee.

"Bail?" he scoffed, "What kind of jail does he think I run? Oh well, time to get electrocuted."

However, as he turned to the duo, they were in the grasp of two Twins, materializing before disappearing into thin air.

The Warden stood flabbergasted before he distracted himself with the execution of a tall-haired criminal with a stabbing hobby.

"But that's why no one has heard from the blue jay and raccoon ever again," a bearded, wizened prisoner explained to a braided felon, "Perhaps they were taken by the gods themselves. Perhaps they are still within the prison walls itself. Oh well, time to die."

He proceeded to take a newspaper and stabbed the story listener. After all, a guest owes his host something. As he threw the bloodied and mutilated man off him, he couldn't shake the notion that the bird and raccoon murals on the walls were looking straight at him. And where did those unibrows come from…?


End file.
